The Origins Trilogy

Chapter 7

"You know, Ivy, talk therapy only works if we actually talk about things," I state plainly. I was sitting in the same small chair in front of Sam's cell, I'd already been here nearly ten minutes, and he hasn't said a word to me since the moment I stepped in the room.

I resolved that if I was going to get through to him, I would have to call him by his alter ego's name. I was still a little on edge from my conversation with Strange, part of me didn't want to talk to Sam with the knowledge that Strange could be looking on, maybe for some more evidence. Although I pushed that thought away knowing that the footage he had was surely enough to get me fired or worse, my license revoked.

Sam was laying with his back against the wall adjacent to the door and stared off into the distance, he'd taken off his shirt, no doubt hoping that I wouldn't come back and he'd try and seduce the next psychiatrist. The moment I came down the stairs, I could tell that he hoped his harsh words would push me away and was noticeably disappointed to see that I'd come back.

But I did, nothing he could ever say would push me away, I left him behind before, never again. They'd began pumping the chamber with more of the chemical to dampen his powers, no doubt fearing he'd try to reach out and use them again. This time it didn't have any visual effect on him, but I could tell he was weakened, clearly drained from having his powers dampened.

"Get with the program Hartley, I don't want you here, so you sit there and rot for all I care, I'm not going to be apart of your save the world complex," he said briefly looking at me before rolling his eyes and turning away.

"Sam—" I started, cut off by the death glare that was cast my way.

"Sorry, Ivy, listen I'm here to help you. I know you don't want me here, I know you're angry at me, and I know you hate me because you have every right to. But I want you to know something, I don't care." I said defiantly, looking him directly in his wide eyes.

"That's right, I don't care that you don't want me here, I don't care that you hate me, and I don't care that you're angry with me, and you want to know why Ivy? Because you're still Sam, he's in there, buried deep under the mutation, under the pain, under the hurt, and I will do whatever I have to so I can see him again.

I'm not here for Poison Ivy, I'm here for Samuel Isley, and if we have to sit here in silence every single session then so be it, I'll wait weeks, months, even years, but eventually, you're going to talk to me. The only difference is, this time, I'm going to be here for you and I'm going to listen," I sit up in my seat, clipboard in hand, and I looked at him.

To my surprise, he laughed at me, not a full-bodied jovial laugh, but one a lot lower with a hint of sarcasm to it.

"Alright, Doctor," he said finally turning to face me, his tone mocking at the name 'Doctor,' I could tell he was trying to make me upset, but I remained unfazed. He can call me whatever he wants as long as he's talking to me,

"You want to help me get better, right? Want me to become a normal person again? Become the Sam you knew, loved, and left? Is that who you want Doctor, to feel like you can fix something, that was always broken?"

"You're not broken, you're just conflicted. Having your life ripped away so suddenly, I mean you were killed, and you were buried alive. You killed the man who was responsible, but in doing so you lost part of yourself, add that to these newfound powers, and you've got yourself a psychotic break.

That's why you killed those other people, Ivy, nothing else mattered because now you had a purpose, to protect 'the Green'. These powers gave you an escape from the reality of your loneliness.

Loneliness that I am no doubt responsible for, but I'm here now to help you work through your pain, come to terms with what you've done, and not become the Sam you were before, but a better one." I said, trying my best to make sure he understood that I was here for him.